


The Black Pearl

by DelphiBlack_Granger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 15:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19397059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelphiBlack_Granger/pseuds/DelphiBlack_Granger
Summary: One late night encounter at a London club. One newly hired Transfiguration Professor. One prized pupil. Hermione Granger never expected those lines to cross, but it may be too little too late.





	The Black Pearl

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly porn without plot but I wanted to see if I could make it work with Professor!Hermione and Student!Bella so here we are

Hermione Granger woke up with a thick glaze over her eyes and a dull, thumping headache. An unfamiliar scent clung to her linen- a musky, floral mix that she couldn’t put her name on. She remembered leaving the club with a girl, a pretty young thing exactly her type. Crazy black curls, smooth pale skin and a killer smirk all wrapped up in a tight little dress. Hermione’s head thrummed as the details went fuzzy after that. There was definitely sex-if her naked form was anything to go by- but it only came back to her in pieces. She decided not to think too hard about it; she could take a one night stand for what it was. Her late night mystery encounter had already left, leaving behind only a strand of dark hair and a rouge lipstick stain on the pillow.

_Lipstick stained her skin as those lips pressed against her neck, nibbling gently on the flesh before trailing up to her jaw, and then to her lips. Hermione grinned into the kiss, pushing her back down onto the bed._

Hermione caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall. Her hair was fretted and wild, and purpling marks scattered her body. Letting out a heavy sigh that rattled against her throat, Hermione hauled herself out of bed and into the bathroom where she raided the cabinet for a pepperup potion. She knew she wouldn’t be feeling so crook right now if she’d just had some water during the night, so she filled up a glass to wash down the potion with in the hopes that it’d hurry up the effects. 

Her apartment was dingy and crooked, almost derelict if not for her nifty charmwork and general sense of cleanliness. Still, it was cheap and not too far from Diagon Alley, so it served her needs well. That it was within walking distance to a popular twenty-one and over club was a bit of a nice perk, even if she found herself regretting the fact in the morning. 

She had only been working at Hogwarts for a year and a half now, and although the pay was good she hadn’t yet managed to put together enough for a deposit on a house, which meant scouring the rental market for the few places that would allow her to lease through the school holiday period. Her lease was almost up now, however, as the holidays were drawing to a close. Tomorrow the students would be boarding the Hogwarts Express, and the day after classes would begin. Hermione pulled a pair of fresh clothes from her cupboard, and tossed the rest onto the bed ready to be packed away. 

By tomorrow she’d be back in her cosy living quarters at the school, and she would kiss this place goodbye if she didn’t think it’d give her a rash. 

* * *

Bellatrix Black was simultaneously her most talented and challenging student. Her colleagues had warned Hermione about her before she’d taken her first class, sharing stories of the way she’d belittled their intelligence in front of her classmates or undermined Slytherin’s leading position in the House Cup simply to make a petty point. Hermione would never say it to them aloud but she found them craven, and considered that they probably only proved Bellatrix right in that regard. But Hermione was a Gryffindor who couldn’t be cowed by an angsty teenager. 

In the end, her suspicions had been confirmed; Bellatrix was simply a brilliant student far beyond the skill level of her peers who delighted in causing chaos simply because there was no task that required her unwavering attention. It was a situation that was inevitably exacerbated by teachers who weren’t even on Bellatrix’s level in regards to complex spellwork and theory. 

Hermione had walked into class on her first day, and had spent the first half of the lesson answering questions about her own schooling and qualifications, and outlining the way she intended to teach Transfiguration that would leave them not only prepared for their NEWTs but also for the application of Transfiguration outside of school. She had hoped that day that she had earned Bellatrix’s grudging respect, but she found that it was a battle hard fought. Bellatrix held prejudices that seeded doubt about her competency, and her sharp wit often left Hermione on the proverbial backfoot. Today, though, Bellatrix only spared her curious glances as she went over the study outline for the new term. 

“I want you to give me a two paragraph summary on the Principle of Artificianimate Quasi-Dominance for this week’s homework,” Hermione instructed, writing out the task on the blackboard. 

“I’m sure Crabbe can tell us all about it, it’s how he was born after all,” Bellatrix quipped, and Hermione was desperately grateful for her well trained poker face. It was a cruel joke, but Crabbe admittedly didn’t _not_ look like a human conjuration gone wrong. Still, she couldn’t let an insult against another student slip, even if they were too thick to realise they'd been insulted in the first place. 

“Detention, Miss Black,” she said evenly. She had expected as much from the first day; the only time Bellatrix ever behaved herself was when she had a mountain of work to churn through. 

“I’ve missed you too, Professor,” Bellatrix grinned, and Hermione chose that moment to turn around and write down the relevant chapter passage they’d need to read to hide her own amusement. 

Seeing as Transfiguration was the last class for the day, Bellatrix followed Hermione to her office for detention. She debated just holding it in the classroom, but after spending her entire summer in a crappy apartment Hermione was going to enjoy the luxury of the leather upholstery in her office. There was a bottle of firewhisky waiting for her at the back of her cabinet, and after her hectic introductory class with the first years she felt she deserved it.

When they reached her office, Hermione instructed Bellatrix to get to work on her homework at the small work desk in the corner of the room, then sat behind her own mahogany desk. Bellatrix did as she was told- this was routine for them by now. Hermione had found quite quickly that Bellatrix cared very little for House points, which only riled up the Slytherins, which then escalated Bellatrix’s own behaviour. Yet Hermione didn’t _enjoy_ giving detentions either, so she’d usually just take the situation as an opportunity to ensure her students completed their work. 

Bellatrix was already halfway through her first paragraph when Hermione pulled out the firewhiskey. 

“Had a long day?” Bellatrix asked, watching her Professor pour a glass. 

“Had my first class with the first years. Doing the demonstrations is fun, but once they get excited it’s hard to calm them down again,” Hermione confessed. There was also the seeds of animosity between the Pureblood children towards the Muggleborns, but she didn’t care to share that part with Bellatrix. 

“I’d have to be drunk to deal with a class full of first years,” Bellatrix mused, “but I’m sure _you_ never let yourself get so… uninhibited.”

Hermione shifted awkwardly in her chair and put the rest of the firewhisky away. Everything Bellatrix ever said always sounded like an accusation, so it was certainly a coincidence and not an allusion to her midnight ventures over the summer holidays. 

She shook her head clear. 

Hermione could see that Bellatrix was almost done with her work, so she got up from her desk to look over Bellatrix’s shoulder at what she had written so far. She took a shallow breath and froze as a musky, floral scent invaded her senses. 

“Is there something wrong, Professor?” Bellatrix asked in a low, near whisper as she tilted her head back to catch her eye. The ghost of a smirk played upon her lips, and as she leaned back the fabric of her shirt strained against the buttons. A flash of red caught Hermione’s unwilling eye, the top of Bellatrix’s bra peeking out as Hermione’s gaze strayed downwards. And on the swell of her breast was a bright purple mark, fading slightly at the edges. 

_Hermione cupped a round breast in one hand as she teased and tasted the other, before dipping lower, lower..._

Hermione staggered backwards, acutely aware that she had just been caught staring down a student’s shirt. To her relief Bellatrix didn’t call her out on it, she simply turned back to her work and finished her sentence. Hermione retreated behind her desk and took a deep breath. She would never look at a student in such a way- even if she was only a few scant years older than the seventh years- and it was unprofessional for her to slip up like that. 

“Do you think you could read over this?” Bellatrix asked, and followed Hermione over. Taking the parchment, Hermione set it down and began to read, doing her best to ignore her student as she hovered over her shoulder just as she had done earlier. Silently she ignored Bellatrix’s overbearing presence, instead focusing on the work in front of her. 

“This line here is a bit redundant because you’ve already explained the concept of a hybrid in the first paragraph,” she pointed out, and found Bellatrix staring uncomfortably close. 

“You really don’t remember?” she asked, cocking her head. 

“R- Remember what? Some personal space please, Miss Black,” Hermione strained to keep her voice stern. 

“The other night,” Bellatrix replied, and her lips twitched back into a smirk that felt uncomfortably familiar. 

_Hermione gasped, and the last thing she saw before closing her eyes was a pair of glittering black eyes and a red painted smirk buried between her legs._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hermione said, allowing indignance to mask her building anxiety. There was no way Bellatrix could be implying- 

“Does the _Black Pearl_ ring a bell?”

_“This place_ is _the best place for pearl diving,” the woman joked._

_“I know. My apartment’s just down the street,” Hermione replied, biting her lip to stop a grin from splitting her face._

_“Oh?”_

“That's a twenty-one and over club! You’re barely seventeen,” Hermione choked out, shooting up from her chair. 

“Do you really think a silly little age limit would ever be able to stop me?” Bellatrix teased. “Uncle Orion owns the place, anyway.” 

Hermione cupped a hand over her mouth in horror. There was no way she- and _Bellatrix Black_ \- 

“Oh my God,” she gasped. 

“I won’t tell, and you certainly won’t tell, so what’s the problem?” Bellatrix persisted. Hermione stared back in shock. There was nowhere she could run; the backs of her legs were still pressing against her chair, and Bellatrix was pressing against her front. 

“I could lose my _job!_ I could-”

“You won’t,” Bellatrix stated. “I’m not an idiot, and neither are you. Nobody’s going to find out.”

“I should go to McGonagall, I-” Hermione stuttered, but stopped herself. The story of a poor teacher being seduced by their student was weak in her own mind, no matter how true it was. And she’d crossed the line first anyway, by getting drunk and dragging her own student to bed. 

“Look, I don’t exactly want the reputation of the harlot who sleeps with her teacher to get good grades, so _I’m_ not about to tell anyone,” Bellatrix said, and ended the conversation by pushing Hermione down by her shoulders and onto the chair, then sliding onto her lap. Hermione shivered, wanting to move but found herself completely paralyzed by Bellatrix’s weight. 

“ _Relax_ ,” she whispered. Hermione had healed the hickey on her neck the same morning that she found it, but Bellatrix didn’t need a reference to find that very same spot and latch onto it with her lips. A low, guttural groan from deep in Hermione’s throat caused the skin of her neck to vibrate under the ministrations, and Bellatrix bit down gently beneath a smirk. 

Hermione tangled her hand in Bellatrix’s hair, making a halfhearted attempt to pull her away that only elicited a heady moan. 

_Hermione pulled on dark curls, and the girl above her moaned in rapture as she raked her nails across her scalp. She wanted to hear that sound again, and again, and again._

Hermione was brought back into the present when she felt Bellatrix’s hips grind down against her own. 

“I- We shouldn’t-” she stuttered, even though all of her carefully crafted arguments were leaving her mind as Bellatrix’s nails dug into her shoulders. She opened her mouth again to protest but Bellatrix took the opportunity to silence her with a kiss, and Hermione lost all semblance of control as a jolt of electricity coursed down her body and down between her legs. 

_A tongue slid inside her mouth, and Hermione moaned into the kiss as their hips rolled together. They broke apart for air for a fraction of a second before rushing back together, and angled their heads further to deepen the kiss._

She vaguely registered Bellatrix pulling her shirt up over her head, and she probably shouldn’t be lifting her arms up to assist her but it was too late for that now. Stark pale hands were roaming her body, unhooking her bra and teasing, rolling, _pinching_ , and Hermione couldn’t remember what she was supposed to be protesting against. Never one for patience, Bellatrix slid to her knees, wrenching Hermione’s skirt and underwear down with her. 

She should stop this, right now- right before-

Hermione threw her head back against the chair, gasping as Bellatrix’s tongue slid over her folds. It wasn’t until Bellatrix began lapping up her juices that she’d realised how wet she was, and she stifled a groan as that tongue coaxed another flood of arousal. Her nose brushed maddeningly against the hood of her clit, and Hermione absently wondered if she realised she was doing it or not. 

Bellatrix dragged one finger along the inside of Hermione’s thigh, and she pulled her head back to shoot her that damn smirk as she slid the digit between her folds. Hermione groaned, feeling herself come undone as Bellatrix rocked her hand back and forth before sliding a second finger in. Those fingers curled beautifully, and Bellatrix leaned back down to suck on her clit, drawing her closer and closer to the edge. 

_Hermione cried out in ecstasy as her orgasm rolled over her in waves, shuddering and clamping down around those curling fingers. A bead of sweat slid down her back, and she held her mouth open in a silent gasp. Her eyes were screwed shut, but she could still feel_ her _everywhere._

 _“That’s it,”_ Bellatrix crooned, easing her back into reality. 

Hermione trembled as a minute aftershock jolted her body, and sagged in her chair to catch her breath. Eventually Bellatrix stood up, and she looked positively smug with her chin still glistening with wetness and it was _so_ infuriating-

_Fuck it._

Hermione leapt up and crashed her lips against hers, wrapped her hand in those black curls and _tugged_ , and drove her tongue deeper into Bellatrix’s mouth when she gasped in surprise. The taste of herself was tangy and sweet, but there was a different flavour she wanted to try. Her other hand curled around Bellatrix’s waist and then dipped down to cup her ass, pulling her skirt up to dig her fingers into bare flesh. 

Bellatrix growled into her mouth and jerked her hips, but Hermione kept her pulled flush close with her grip. Her hold on her hair tightened when Bellatrix tried to pull back for air, and she let out a muted keen when Hermione pushed her knee upwards between her legs. Eventually Hermione let her break for air, and her chest heaved from a breathlessness only partly caused by the oxygen consuming kiss. 

“You’re even better at this sober,” she breathed. 

Hermione gave her a wry smirk of her own, then gathered all her strength to push her down on the desk. Bellatrix let out an undignified yelp when her back hit the wood and struggled to plant her feet back on the ground, but Hermione was already wrapping her arms around those pale thighs and pulled them flush against her body at the edge of the desk. 

She could feel Bellatrix’s slick arousal pressing against her stomach through the thin fabric of her underwear, but Hermione wasn’t going to let herself indulge in a taste just yet. With deft hands she unbuttoned Bellatrix’s shirt, then wrenched it open over her torso. There was that bruise again, sitting just over the cup of her shocking red bra. 

“I know you can cast Episkey,” Hermione said as she brought her lips down over that same spot. 

“Maybe I didn’t want to,” Bellatrix murmured, pushing her chest upwards to meet her. With her back conveniently arched, Hermione reached around to unhook the clasp on her bra, pulling it off to the side. 

_Hermione stared down at the woman laying down on her bed, her naked torso begging for attention. She looked like a statue carved from marble, deceptively plush but almost certainly cold to the touch. The light pink nipples atop her breasts were the only colour across that ivory chest, and Hermione resolved to leave a trail of red and purple in her wake._

Hermione leaned back and traced a gentle hand up Bellatrix’s body, then delicately took a hardened bud in each hand and rolled them between her fingers. 

“Stop fucking teasing,” Bella growled, struggling to stop herself from squirming under her Professor’s intense scrutiny.

“Shh,” Hermione bent down and kissed her cheek. She wanted to kiss the pout off her face too, but decided to distract her another way. Ducking down, she wrapped her lips around a pink pebble, sucking lightly to coax out an inevitable moan. Hermione revelled in Bellatrix’s deteriorating coherence, each nip and flicker drawing out another cry or gasp. It was amazing how well behaved her student could be so long as she had the right stimulation. 

Refusing to lay idle, Bellatrix tangled her hands in Hermione’s bushy curls and pushed her down, and Hermione was all too willing to oblige. Bellatrix’s skirt was pushed upwards as she travelled down, revealing a matching red pair of underwear. They were damp and aromatic, and they had to go. Bellatrix raised her hips as she peeled them off, and before they’d even hit the floor Hermione was nestled in the apex of her legs, finally taking her first taste of that forbidden fruit. The flavour was familiar on her tongue, musky and subtle but oh so intoxicating.

Bellatrix arched against the desk, writhing as she squeezed down with her thighs to pull Hermione in closer. Determined to keep her steady, Hermione held her hips against the desk with her hands. She smirked against Bellatrix’s lips, taking her sweet time in dragging her tongue upwards to find that Black pearl she’d been promised. She swirled the tip of her tongue around it then blew on it gently, and Bellatrix let out a feral shriek. 

The voice in the back of her head screaming about how wrong this was has been completely driven away by those noises, which gave her the confidence to plunge two fingers between Bellatrix’s legs, chasing that high. Her hand rocked rhythmically into Bellatrix’s core, and she increased her speed as she watched the muscles of her abdomen tense even further.

“Holy _shit_ , Hermione,” Bellatrix cried out as her climax hit her like a bludger. Hermione stilled, but Bellatrix’s walls kept pulsing around her fingers as she rode out her orgasm. 

_“What do I call you, pet?” the stranger asked, reaching out to brush aside a stray curl._ _  
_ _“Hermione.”_

_“Unusual name. I like it,” she grinned._

_“And what do I call you?”_

_“It doesn’t matter, because you won’t be forming words when I’m done with you.”_

Bellatrix’s chest staggered as she recovered, and Hermione leaned up to brush a sweat soaked curl from her cheek. But eventually the haze clouding her mind lifted, and she became acutely aware that she was standing naked above her own student, equally as undressed, splayed across the desk. And as beautiful as that picture was, it was also very, very inappropriate.

Hermione reeled as she scurried to throw her clothes back on. She couldn’t think of anything more stupid than fucking her prized pupil in her office, yet here they were. 

“This, this can’t happen again,” Hermione announced, fumbling with her skirt.

“It’s cute that you believe that,” Bellatrix drawled, leaning back against the desk as she buttoned her shirt back up. 

Hermione knee she should drop it- maybe pretend that this entire fiasco had never occurred- but her curiosity got the best of her, as always.

“Why did you leave in the morning?” she asked, quieter than she had intended.

Bellatrix chewed her lip awkwardly.

“I didn’t exactly remember much at first, either,” she confessed. “And when I woke up and realised who you were, well…” 

“You freaked out,” Hermione realised. Bellatrix nodded and raked a hand down her scalp and through her curls. 

“I freaked out. I woke up naked a stranger’s bed, I turn around and there’s my Professor,” she laughed, and Hermione winced. 

“I _did_ want to stay and maybe talk to you about it, but I had to get cleaned up and ready to leave for school anyway. So I thought that if you didn’t remember anything then I could forget it too,” Bellatrix continued, and Hermione found herself nodding. 

“But you couldn’t,” she affirmed. 

“It was good sex,” Bellatrix shrugged, an almost bashful smile gracing her lips. Despite herself, Hermione found herself smiling back. 

“I’m in so much shit,” she croaked. 

“Relax, Hermione. It’ll stay between us,” Bellatrix shrugged. 

“What if someone saw us at the club?” 

“Like I said, my uncle owns the joint. He’ll deny that an under twenty-one year old could ever get in, and he’s got the lawyers to prove it.” 

“I mean it- don’t come to my office to do this ever again,” Hermione said firmly.

“And outside your office?” 

Hermione hesitated. There was no way she could endorse any more late night rendezvous with her student, but Bellatrix had it right. It _was_ good sex. 

“What happens outside of Hogwarts stays outside of Hogwarts,” Hermione said eventually, trying to sound more disciplinary than flirtatious but failing miserably. Bellatrix cocked her head in amusement as she straightened out her tie and smoothed out her skirt. 

“Get yourself a better apartment next time,” she said, quirking an eyebrow before turning around and exiting the office, pulling the door shut behind her.


End file.
